Sure Bet (Out of Left Field #1)

4. Brooke

Chapter 4

Brooke

I f I hadn’t heard Liam stumble home like an ungraceful rhino last night, I might have thought he hadn’t moved into the guest room.

The apartment was again empty when I came home from work on day two of Liam’s Residency. At least I could get ready for my date in peace. I stayed at the lab longer than planned again. Avoidance seemed like a good strategy a few days ago, but the anxiety dancing in my gut had me questioning that decision.

I shook off my raincoat, draping it over my arm to hang it in my bedroom. Steering clear of the hall closet might have been part of my avoidance strategy, too. If only I could dodge the memories as effectively as I evaded the man responsible for them.

My phone buzzed, drawing my eyes away from the door to my past. Sam’s name flashed with a text.

Sam: Hey, sorry, but I have to cancel our plans tonight. Talk tomorrow?

A wave of relief overshadowed any disappointment—only because a night alone sounded like the perfect remedy to a long day. With my boyfriend’s cancellation and a quiet apartment came an entire evening of solitude, which meant…

“Oh, hell yeah, baby. Sir Arrick Baldwin is for sure going to nail Princess Penelope in the orchard.” Arrick loved his peaches, and I loved my smutty books.

I kicked off my shoes, embracing my liberation. Sam found my audiobooks horrendous, and it shamed me to no end to pretend I listened to Steinbeck. Like his evocative settings could get my face this pink.

No need to hide flushed cheeks with Shana working late and my boyfriend otherwise occupied. I had no idea what Liam’s schedule was like. He was probably scouring the bars for a woman whose life he would ruin, but I didn’t want to risk it.

“Headphones in.” I grabbed a cheap pair from the drawer. One or two chapters on the couch with a snack, and then I would lock myself in my room and find out what Sir Arrick had going on under those breeches.

I changed into my sweats and settled in with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and crackers—a proper self-date night.

Rain tapped against the windows, the room cozy with the darkening sky outside and the dim light of the table lamp. I sprawled on the couch, draping a soft throw blanket over me and hitting play.

“The morning sun cast its golden rays upon the lush and bountiful orchard. A delicate floral scent whispered secrets in the breeze. Amidst the verdant canopy of blossoming trees, a figure emerged like a vision from her dream. Sir Arrick atop his handsome steed, riding with confidence despite the forbidden meeting. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, and Penelope took in his stately masculinity. The roundness of the globes of his derriere as he dismounted the proud equine, the thickness of his muscular thighs visible beneath his close-fitting breeches.”

“Get to it,” I grumbled, nestling deeper into the cushions and closing my eyes. “Bang her in the flowers.” Jesus. How long did it take for two people to?—

With one swift motion, the headphones were yanked from my ears before I finished the thought. The cord pulled from my phone as it slid off my stomach, clattering to the floor.

“What the hell?” I cried, jolting upright and clutching my chest.

The sound blasted into the air like a shot fired before Liam answered.

“Sir Arrick quickly worked to remove his breeches, his erection proud as he mounted the princess like an animal, rather than the dignified maiden she claimed to be. Her cries of pleasure with his powerful thrusts echoed over the hillside, but she cared little who might hear when Arrick took her with such abandon.”

Liam’s eyes widened in shock, mirroring my own startled expression as the soundtrack of my secret indulgence played throughout the apartment.

I blinked, then blinked again one more time before shutting my eyes and willing myself to disappear. Regularly ignored and overlooked in life, I prayed this moment would be no different.

But Liam wasn’t about to let me off the hook. “A most delightful evening to you, Lady Brooke. It has been far too long since our paths last crossed, and it fills me with tremendous pleasure to see you once again under the gentle veil of twilight,” he quipped, his grin threatening to split his face in half as his amusement mixed with my mortification.

Oh. My. God.

“I never knew you had a thing for knights in shining armor with… unconventional mounting.”

Showing signs of weakness with Liam only provided kindling for future roasting, and we’d burned enough bridges between us to keep my cheeks heated for a lifetime. I didn’t need more.

“It’s not porn if it’s literary!” I scrambled for my phone and frantically hit pause on the audiobook.

My embarrassment fueled Liam’s laughter as I tried to regain my composure in a situation that left me with little dignity.

“Women are allowed to enjoy porn, Brooke. Though I imagine your grass allergy would prohibit galloping in fields, my lady. There are other locations ideal for mounting.” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and a smirk played at the corners of his lips.

“You’re terrible. Can you at least pretend to be an adult, or do you have to ruin everything?” I fiddled with the sleeves of my sweatshirt instead of covering my face with my hands to hide.

He dropped his smirk and hummed in agreement. “Should I be on the lookout for any gallant gentlemen removing their breeches in our apartment?”

God, I hated how quickly he recovered when I hardly managed to peel myself off the floor, crushed by the weight of my humiliation.

That grin—his insufferable smile was even more handsome at close range. It was slightly crooked and a tad lopsided, but the lack of symmetry on an otherwise gorgeous face made it even better because it was perfectly imperfect. Ugh.

Liam remained infuriatingly attractive, made all the worse by the fact he knew it. He proved anything but a knight in shining armor, but I wished he’d arrived on a horse. One that swiftly kicked him in the groin.

Liam made his way from the living room to the kitchen. Even in old gym shorts and a plain T-shirt, his strides were confident, almost arrogant, as if he owned the space he walked through. I guess he did.

“It’s been a while.” That casual tone, like we were a couple of pals. “How are things?”

His chestnut hair was a tousled mess, with a slight curl at the ends, the perfect length to frame his ruggedly handsome face. Despite myself, I found my gaze lingering on the subtle flex of his muscles beneath his shirt as he reached for a bowl from the cabinet.

“Fine. Good. Great, actually.” Depending on metrics, but he didn’t specify.

“Happy to hear it,” he lied. Liam didn’t care. We had not kept in touch over the years, and Shana painted any pictures with a broad brush. I’d been too proud to ask for specific details.

I quickly tore my eyes away, cursing myself for even allowing a fleeting moment of appreciation for his obnoxious good looks.

The silverware rattled in the drawer as Liam opened it and grabbed a spoon, the clink echoing against the ceramic bowl. He strode to the fridge and rummaged around.

“It’s almost like old times. You in the Porter’s house, taking up space as if it’s yours and glaring with the heat of Hades’ balls.”

I scoffed, spinning around on the couch to glare at him with the heat of Hades’ balls. “Your mom loved me. She helped raise me. She?—”

“Was a big fan of charity.” Liam licked his fingers, putting the lid back on the container… on my container.

“Hey, that’s my special yogurt!”

He glanced up, blinking innocently. “I’m sorry. Is this not for everyone?”

Son of a bitch. Food distribution was one of the few boundaries Shana had in her life. There was no chance she hadn’t told Liam the rules. But Liam hated rules. Another stark difference between us.

He spooned a mouthful of the yogurt, his brows pinched. “There’s nothing disgusting about this. Goats produce milk.” With a heavy swallow, he forced a smile. “Rather fancy for a woman eating Kraft singles on saltine crackers. You never grew out of that, huh?”

I hadn’t, and I hated that he remembered.

“Goat milk is amazing for your gut health, practically magic.” Unclear if that was true, but admitting I paid twice as much for a product endorsed in a lifestyle magazine opened me up to potential ridicule.

I strolled to the kitchen rather dramatically. But if I didn’t establish dominance now…

The container was almost empty, tomorrow’s breakfast gone to the man who ate as he pleased, looked fit, and had an iron stomach. I hated him.

My eyes lifted from the container to meet his, narrowing.

Liam raised the bowl over his head, the tall bastard sensing the attack before I snatched my food. “Since when? And that still doesn’t explain the Kraft slices. Did my presence inspire some nostalgia for our childhood?”

“I didn’t know you were home.” I would rather not answer his question.

“I was in my room.”

In retrospect, that should have crossed my mind, but Liam thundered his way through life. I expected to hear him moving around like an elephant. “You were so… quiet.”

He grinned—and kill me now. My stomach did a quick backflip.

“You weren’t quiet. Do you always talk to yourself when you think no one is around?”

My face warmed, and I turned away, abandoning my yogurt. He could choke it down if it pleased him.

I didn’t want to share my food with him, a wall, or space when I couldn’t control my blush, wandering eyes, or the strange unease in my stomach with his presence.

“I didn’t see your shoes in the entryway,” I mumbled.

The observation left me feeling exponentially more stupid. Liam’s mere presence made me feel invisible, even when he looked at me. Not that I craved his attention; far from it. His imposing, larger-than-life personality reminded me that I may as well be wallpaper.

“Believe it or not, I store shoes in the closet.” He pressed closer, his hands splayed on the counter beside me.

My eyes dropped to the faint scar on his left knuckle from a nasty fall off his bike when we were ten that hadn’t faded. He didn’t bite his nails anymore. They were trimmed and well-kept.

His taunt jolted me out of my physical inventory of his hands. “You know, the closet in the hallway, cozy as it is. Even more snug as an adult. Think we’d both fit in there, even though we’re not fifteen anymore?”

My face was on fire. I refused to acknowledge that comment, the dip in my stomach, or the way my entire body tightened. My eyes drifted to the closet. The one I couldn’t open because it held humiliating memories. The one I pretended didn’t exist, swatting away the taunts Liam or anyone else lobbed at me over the years.

I hated it when he messed with me like this—when he knew how desirable he was and refused to handle my foolish, weak heart with care.

“Speaking of.” Liam stepped back and clapped his hands. “What’s on the agenda for our birthday party? I was thinking horseback riding.”